


Crowns

by oldfashionedwords



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:19:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldfashionedwords/pseuds/oldfashionedwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While spending an afternoon in the park, a young George Kirk sees a girl around his age braiding flowers and such together and decides she needs a friend too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crowns

Feet kicked lightly as he sat on a swing, fingers curled tightly on his book so it wouldn’t fall.  But it wasn’t the book he was focused on, oh no. Something far more captivating caught his eye and George Kirk couldn’t remember seeing a prettier girl in all eleven years of his life.

She sat by herself, head full of perfect golden curls and waves framing her face, next to her a basket of assorted wild flowers and vines and thin, fresh twigs.  He had to have been on the same page of his book for the last seven minutes now, vivid blues spellbound at watching the detailed, methodical way the girl was weaving the flora together.

He wanted to talk to her; she was alone just like he was. Maybe she doesn’t like it either, George mused to himself, closing the book. Nervousness twisted in his belly and he huffed—why was it doing that? He’d talked to girls before, it wasn’t difficult! This was wasn’t any different just because she wore jeans and a t-shirt instead  of a dress. Unwrapping his arms from the chains he hopped off the seat and started for the bench the girl was at.

When he was only feet away from her he stopped, one arm neatly at his side as the other tucked the book close to his chest and fingers played at the pages. “Hi!” He practically chirped. “My name’s George.” And the introduction was, of course, brimming with friendliness. “Could I help you with that?”

“You got a last name, Georgie?” She asked in an unimpressed manner, keeping to her task.

A fluster hit him square in his chest and he laughed nervously. “Kirk. George Kirk.”

“Winona Davis.”

 _Winona_ , he thought, a grin slowly finding his mouth. “That’s a really pre—”

“You said you wanted to help?” She interrupted sharply, looking up to the boy.

“… Uh,” His mind came to a screeching halt, trying to find words when those intense eyes were on him. “Yeah! What can I do?”

Turning to her side, she picked up a solitary, tiny white flower and showed it to him. “I need more of these. Like, ten of ‘em.” Winona looked expectedly at him. “They grow around tree trunks, mostly.”

George took a step forward and leaned down to get a closer look at the flower for a couple seconds, setting his book on the metallic seat before standing up straight and smiling. “Okay. I’ll be back in a few." 

“…” Skeptical sapphires squinted at him and she offered the flower again. “Don’t you wanna take it with you so you know what to look for?”

With a widening smile that showed off pearly whites, George shook his head as he backed away from her. “I already know what to look for!” He finally turned away from her completely, heading towards the pavilion where some smaller trees were. 

When George returned to her fifteen minutes later, Winona had the string of vines and flowers resting on her knees because she was reading his book he left behind. Once he was close enough for her to hear him approach she looked up, closing the book and setting it aside as if she weren’t interested in it at all. “Did you find them?”

Nodding enthusiastically, George held out his hands to give her fourteen of the most carefully picked and handled flowers she’d seen. “I got you some purple ones too, I hope that’s okay. Thought you might be able to use them.”

They were pretty, Winona admitted to herself as she took them from George. “I’ll see what I can do.” She set them in the basket before picking up the partly woven strip over her legs. “Thanks,” Came the mutter with an appreciative look towards the older boy.

“You’re welcome.” A crooked smile found him then as he sat beside her, his book between them. “Can I help with anything else?”

They spent the rest of their time at the park together, George handing Winona whatever she asked for and Winona diligently working away and pretending like she didn’t notice, every time she looked over at George, how he smiled. Words were few and far between (and mostly from the excited boy that started to remind Winona of a puppy) yet the silence joining them wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t until the sun was beginning to set that they were separated, George’s mother calling out to him. Taking his book he stood, the smile that had been inviting all evening suddenly sad. “Good luck on your project, Winona. It was nice meeting you." 

Curls bounced as she looked up to George once more, the faintest hint of grief that he had to leave in her lightly knitted brows. “Thanks. You too.” She nodded, gripping the braided plants in her hands when he chuckled and turned away and started walking away. “Hey!” The call was a touch too loud, demanding. Still, it got the boy to turn to her like she wanted, even if he looked a little startled. “Will you be back here tomorrow?” Her voice was softer, shoulders relaxing.

Whatever shocked look he had, really just his face expressing the jump his heart took at her call, was readily replaced with that warm smile of his. “I promise I will be.” George nodded. She smiled in return and if that was something he got to see again tomorrow, he’d find a way to go no matter what.

Not that it was difficult for him to do such a thing when his father told him to ask his mother because he was busy and his mother couldn’t say no to a face like his. That and, without letting her boy know, she might have seen him start to make friends with that little blonde girl the other day. Unfortunately he was later to the park that day then he had been last but Winona was sitting on the same bench they were yesterday, again with her basket this time seemingly empty, looking dejected.

The thought that she might have thought he wasn’t going to show up echoed in his mind and George ran to the spot, waving an arm as she called to her; “Winona!”

The familiar voice caught her ears and she perked up, face attentive and quickly changing  into a smile. She slipped off the bench and waited for him to get there with her hands clasped in front of her. “Hi, George.” She greeted, trying to hid the smile that wanted so desperately to grow.

“Hi,” The blond panted out with a grin of his own. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, I hope you weren’t waiting long. How are you?”

Winona eagerly shook her head, her hair flowing with the movement. She lied; she’d been waiting most of the day for him but that didn’t matter now—he was here. “I’m better. You?”

Though he wanted to look in the basket to see if anything was there or see if she just carried it around like a stuffed animal, George couldn’t take his eyes off her again. She was just so happy! It was a stark difference in what she had been the other day, from what he could tell. “Me too.”

“I’ve got something for you.” Winona started and trailed as she swayed gently.

George wanted to grin more but he held it down as he glanced briefly over to the basket where an unknown thing was being covered by a cloth. “Yeah? I don’t have anything for you, though.”

“That’s okay,” Her head shook softly this time. “Do you wanna be my friend, George Kirk?”

The question gave him pause, not because he didn’t want to be, but because she’d asked—and so bluntly. It wasn’t rude but forwardness wasn’t something he was used to getting. Winona didn’t seem to pick up on that however and curled in on herself some. She’d taken a breath to say something, brilliant eyes cast downward, but George cut in before she could get a word out. “Yeah, I wanna be your friend, Winona.”

Her head snapped up to the reply, which was met by a heartfelt smile on George’s part and she couldn’t help but reflect it on her end. “Winny,” she insisted. “Call me Winny.” Then she turned to her basket and pulled out a thin wreath made of all the flowers and things she’d had with her the previous day. This one had less flowers and more greenery but what flowers were there were delicate looking field flowers and what looked like a couple sprigs of baby’s breath from a bouquet. It even had the little purple ones he’d picked for her. Standing on her tiptoes, Winona stretched to place the crown of flowers on George’s head and pull it down some to stay.

He bent down some to accommodate their height difference and he tired not to wince at the way one of the twigs dug against his scalp, though an eye did scrunch up a touch. George couldn’t help the laugh though, at the pout the girl wore. “What’s the matter?” He inquired, raising a hand to adjust the flowers. 

“It’s a little small.” And she meant to say it with disappointment in her crafting skills, instead laughing since his altercation mussed up his otherwise perfect military-esque haircut. 

“That’s okay,” He reassured, a light bloom of pink gracing his cheeks. “I bet it looks great. Thank you.”

Winona looked down with a poorly hidden smile at the praise. “You’re welcome.” Was her mutter. Again she turned from him to go into the basket, pulling out another circlet of flowers and placing them on her head, a handful of hairs sticking up from her placement.

George absolutely lit up at the display, thrilled to see she had one too.

“I made yours after I finished mine last night.” Came the confession. “And I finished it before you showed up.” Now the flush of color was on her features too.

“Georgie." 

“What?”

“When we met the other day,” He laughed. “You called me Georgie. You can keep calling me that, if you wanted to.”

Confusion from the topic change melted instantly and new level of mirth lit up Winona’s eyes. “Okay!” In the next moment she was picking up her basket and grabbing one of his hands, pulling him off further into the park. “Let’s go play, Georgie!” 

Later that night, Tiberus wasn’t pleased to hear that it took his wife four times to get their son to find her and he was even less thrilled about the flowers he had with him but for once George didn’t care; Not only did he have a friend and have proof of her, he’d gotten Winona’s address after she took his and promised to send him letters.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for your time! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it c:


End file.
